අඬමුද? සිනාසෙමුද?
This article critically examines the controversial tenure and actions of former Chief Justice Sarath Nanda Silva, detailing his abuse of judicial power for personal and political gain. It outlines his role in imprisoning S.B. Dissanayake to appease President Chandrika Kumaratunga, his subsequent legal betrayal of Kumaratunga following a personal insult regarding his behavior toward women, and his intimidation of treasury officials to secure an abnormally high pension. The author also provides a detailed investigative account of a 2004 incident near Diyawanna Oya, where police allegedly found the Chief Justice half-naked in a parked vehicle with a woman, using the cover-up of this event to highlight the systemic corruption and apathy within Sri Lanka’s political, parliamentary, and judicial systems.
The cat is out of the bag
Two TAFREN advertisements, four days apart, expose what the 100-metre coastal building ban was for. The first, on 27 February, told the country that homes destroyed inside the zone could not be rebuilt and that the government would provide 500-square-foot replacements. The second, on 2 March, exempted buildings permitted before 26 December 2004 by the Tourist Board and other authorities — which may remain, may be repaired, and may be completed if construction had begun. Victor Ivan concludes the rule applies only to ordinary residents, and that its purpose is to clear the most valuable land in the country for the tourist industry. He notes that a Coastal Zone Management Plan already existed, drawn up by specialists, with a conservation zone varying from twenty metres to more than a hundred according to local conditions, and even anticipating a tsunami; the government consulted neither the Coast Conservation Department nor its experts, who are now unwilling to quarrel with those holding absolute power. Coastal residents and hoteliers had coexisted profitably, he argues, and turning the industry into an occupier will serve neither.
The tsunami can become a political tsunami
A month on from the tsunami, Victor Ivan warns that mishandling the recovery could produce a political tsunami destructive to the government and the opposition alike. He attacks the 100-metre coastal buffer imposed by TAFREN: damage reached 400 metres inland at Telwatta and in Galle town while some houses at the water’s edge stood untouched, so the rule bears no relation to where the danger actually lay. It also bites only on the unlucky — those whose houses survive may stay, those whose houses were destroyed may not rebuild — and leaves the displaced waiting in camps for a house in a location of the government’s choosing, or buying land themselves. Pacific nations facing the same hazard do not clear their coasts, relying on warning systems and tsunami-resistant construction instead. Ivan argues that resettlement without consent breaches both UN policy on the displaced and the constitutional protection of private property, and sets out an alternative: let landowners rebuild where they lived, give them the per-capita sum the government would have spent, extend credit to ruined businesses, and revive economic life quickly.
Overcoming the disaster
Victor Ivan treats the December 2004 tsunami as a test the Sri Lankan state failed. Warning instruments existed and went unused; the armed forces were instructed too late to be effective outside the north-east where they were already concentrated. Forty-eight hours after the waves the government allocated Rs 100 million in urgent relief — a hundred rupees a head for a million destitute — and eight days later the President’s office put reconstruction at Rs 100 billion against the Central Bank’s provisional Rs 400 billion, a sum equal to a full year of government spending or three years of Tokyo consortium aid. In twenty minutes the country lost lives and property comparable to twenty years of war. Ivan argues the two catastrophes cannot be addressed separately, since housing tsunami victims alone would affront those displaced by the fighting, and calls for a two-year all-party government charged with physical reconstruction and with enacting a new constitution — something he thinks civil society will have to compel the parties to accept.
The Donkey and the Carrot
This article critiques the Sri Lankan government’s flawed approach to peace negotiations following the LTTE’s temporary withdrawal from talks. Author Victor Ivan argues that the government treats the conflict using a simplistic “carrot and stick” model appropriate for a defeated adversary, rather than treating the LTTE as an undefeated entity requiring parity and genuine trust. The piece warns against over-relying on international clout—specifically the U.S. factor—to intimidate the LTTE, which risks alienating both the Tamil rebels and neighboring India. Additionally, it highlights critical administrative missteps, such as excluding the LTTE from the Washington pre-aid conference and failing to implement post-war rehabilitation and resettlement programs due to bureaucratic inefficiency.
About the Budget
While this article credits the UNF Government for stabilizing a collapsing economy through strict financial control, it heavily criticizes the administration’s lack of a broader economic vision. The author argues that Sri Lanka must stop thinking like a small island and instead integrate its education and workforce into the global market. Rather than passively relying on the remittances of unskilled laborers while simultaneously exploiting them with excessive passport and agency fees, the government should actively train its youth for skilled international professions—such as nursing—and facilitate affordable foreign education to alleviate local bottlenecks and maximize global economic opportunities.
Who is More Responsible for Corruption: the Politician or the Bureaucrat?
This article argues that Sri Lanka’s greatest existential threat is not the war waged by Prabhakaran, but the pervasive cancer of state-level corruption and waste that has been rotting the country from within. Challenging the popular narrative that blames corruption entirely on politicians, the author places heavy responsibility on permanent state bureaucrats. Rather than acting as the legal backbone of the state, these officials frequently collude with temporary politicians for personal gain. The author concludes that until both corrupt politicians and their complicit bureaucratic enablers are prosecuted and imprisoned, Sri Lanka will never develop a strong, independent administrative service capable of upholding the rule of law.
Media Reform
An interview with Ravaya editor Victor Ivan on media reform: the campaign to abolish criminal defamation, the proposed Freedom of Information Act, plans for a Media Training Institute, and his argument that Sri Lankan journalism has acted as a creator of disputes rather than an arbitrator of them.